The sparse, staccato style at work here will suit some readers more than others. Jones does succeed in presenting an intriguing, and at times captivating, portrayal of his central concern: our relationship with, (and too often struggle against), nature. The depictions of rural life in Wales are among the strongest elements of the collection, and the undercurrent of discomfort, angst, and occasional gore is often handled with real deftness.
“Cow” stands out as the clear high point for me. Its visceral force is compelling and electric, it left me wishing more of the collection reached the same calibre. Elsewhere, I often found myself frustrated by the extremity of Jones’s minimalism. Promising ideas and subtexts are frequently introduced only to be abandoned, as the narrative shifts without warning and refuses to linger. I wanted more space, more prose, and more time to properly absorb what Jones was gesturing toward.
The result, for me, was a reading experience that could feel abrasive and disjointed, though not without intermittent bursts of energy and inspiration. While this made parts of the book feel like a slow trudge, a more careful or perceptive reader may well derive greater satisfaction from it than I did. I can speak only to my own experience. A worthwhile experiment, but an uneven one. 3.15 stars.